


Dining at the Ritz, we'll meet at nine

by Adrenaline_Roulette



Category: Bohemian Rhapsody (Movie 2018), Bohemian Rhapsody (Movie 2018) Actor RPF, Queen (Band)
Genre: Brian swings on his chair, F/M, Fluff, Fluff and Humor, Funny, Humor, I honestly have no idea where this idea came from, Lies, Not sure why I felt the need to write Roger sitting on a dumpster, Ritz - Freeform, Romance, The Ritz, Very unoriginal title i know, dont swing on your chairs kids, it just sort of happened, probably not at all how you should behave as a waitress, work friends are the best friends
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-10-23
Updated: 2019-10-23
Packaged: 2020-12-28 22:54:36
Rating: Not Rated
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 5,357
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/21144575
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Adrenaline_Roulette/pseuds/Adrenaline_Roulette
Summary: “I’m telling the truth! I know what – Who I saw!”“Brian, just because the waitress and Roger’s friend have the same name, does not mean they are the same person.”“Friend? I think she’s a bit more than that.”“I’m sure I don’t know what you mean."“A friend who you will not stop talking about? A friend who you couldn’t stop grinning after she agreed to have dinner with you? Shall I go on?”“Freddie, I will kill you if you don’t shut up!”





	Dining at the Ritz, we'll meet at nine

**Author's Note:**

> This story has been sitting on my computer for literal months now, just waiting for me to finish it, and today felt like the right time to finally do just that! I've been writing a lot of Brian lately with my multi chapter fic 'He'll save every one of us'. And I felt like reviving a bit of Roger love! (It's been a hot minute for me writing him!)  
Also, this is purely made as a work of fiction, and a little bit of fun! In no way am I having a go at any who works as a waiter, and it is absolutely nothing to be embarrassed about! This is just my word vomit, which I thought came out semi decent!
> 
> As always, I love hearing your feedback, comments and kudos are always appreciated -Hint hint-  
Peace and love my bros <3 <3 <3

People moved around you at lightning speed, staff dressed in crisp white shirts, with black waistcoats carrying various trays, some topped with assorted beverages, whiles others with silver domed lids held lavish, piping hot meals. It seemed as if all hands were on deck tonight, when you had looked over the roster at the beginning of your shift, it appeared that just about every member of the wait staff were working tonight. From what you could tell, there was no real reason to have this many people working, the restaurant being no busier than any other Friday night. You gazed down at your left wrist, spotting the time on your watch. The moment it hit nine o’clock, a commotion broke out in the main foyer of The Ritz, the dull buzz of conversation growing in intensity until it had become a subtle roar. You look around the dining room, a frown crossing your features as you try to see who or what could be causing such a fuss!

You turn your attention to your fellow waiter, Brad, who was looking just as confused as you were currently. Given his raised eyebrows, and slow blinking, you would wager a guess that he was just as clueless as you, though you saw no harm in finding out for sure. “What on Earth is going on out there?” Your voice is somewhat raised, to make sure Brad can actually hear you.

“I have no clue Y/N! Someone’s obviously here though, check out those photographers.” He gestured towards the double glass doors as they were swung open, a mass of people stampeding into the dining room. Bright flashes from the paparazzi who had followed the new arrival in, momentarily blinded the unfortunate already seated diners, who had the misfortune of sitting too close to the doors. The swarm of people moves as one, until coming to a stop before a large table set for eight. Within the group of photographers and fans, eight men take their seats, two of the men representing a recording studio, another two the manger’s and finally the remaining four comprising of the band.

There’s a loud crash from behind you, and you, Brad and all the other staff who had been watching the scene unfold from the kitchen, turn on the spot, coming face to face with the manager, Mr Turner. He stood at over six feet tall and managed to intimidate anyone around him with just a look, the very look he was currently sporting, his bushy moustache hiding the snarl on his lips. “Right then! You all know which sections you are looking after tonight, most of you are with different tables than usual to keep everything running as smoothly as possible tonight. As you can see, we have some rather special guests tonight. There is a meeting occurring between some very important people at table seventy-five, so I need my best staff looking after them tonight.” His deep, gravelly voice commanded the room, and everyone hung onto his every word. “Y/N! You’ll be looking after seventy-five tonight, with Miss Clarke as your back up, in case you need any assistance.”

Your eyes glaze over for a moment, as you take in Mr Turner’s words. He wants you to look after these incredibly important guests? There was a mixed feeling of excitement, with growing dread within you, you had a bad feeling about this.

“Hey, looks like we’re buddies for tonight, huh?” Emily Clarke grins as she steps up beside you, while the other staff return to their designated tables. Emily was relatively new to working at The Ritz, though she had had previous experience as a waitress, she had never worked in such a fast paced environment.

“It looks like it, we’ll do well together.” You grin at her, despite not knowing if you would require her assistance with the group. “I should probably get started on their drinks order then.” You shrug, as you check over your uniform, ensuring your shirt was still tucked into your black skirt, your waist coat covering the join between shirt and bottom. Emily smiles once more as she helps to straighten your tie, giving you a thumbs up at the finished result.

With a deep breath, you plaster your best customer service smile across your lips, making sure you have your order book and pen with you before making your way towards Seventy five. Time seems to slow down as you step ever closer, your heart rate picking up speed as you arrive at the table. The square table had you stood behind four of the men, one with dirty blonde hair, and the other three with varying shades of brunette, one of which had his falling in wild curls down his back. You couldn’t help but find his hair somewhat familiar, which even for you was an odd thought. “Good evening Gentlemen, I’m Y/N, and I will be your waitress for tonight. May I get you started with any drinks?”

One of the men from the opposite side of the table looks up at you from his menu, he had an aura of authority about him, and you turn up the brightness of your smile, in an effort to impress him. “ Two bottles of Moet & Chandon, and glasses for all please.” He replies curtly, before returning to his conversation with the group. You nod in understanding, before turning on your heel and making your way to the bar. As you walk away, you don’t notice as the curly haired man leans back in his chair to watch you depart, a faint look of recognition on his face.

It only takes a few moments for the bartender to fill the order, and you’re soon heading back to your table, the bottles in ice buckets to keep them chilled during the duration of their meal. Placing the ice buckets on the table, you quickly leave then return with eight champagne flutes balanced on a silver tray, placing that too on the table. In one swift motion, the cork is popped from the neck of the wine bottle, and you look at the man who had placed the order, keeping your back to the other side of the table, not that they would have noticed, as all four young men were too busy looking over the menu, trying to decide what looked best. “Would Sir like to taste before I pour?”

“No, thank you. Just pour a glass for everyone.” He replied, and you did exactly that, filling the glasses with liquid golden bubbles. You place a glass before the four men who you had been facing when you had taken the drinks order, then move to face the other four. Instantly you can feel bile rise in your throat, this was not happening. Queen was not here, not now! And you could not be serving them!  
As fast as you can, you place the glasses in front of the band, miraculously without and spills on the table cloth. Just as you place the glass in front of Brian, he begins to raise his head, and you grab for the now empty tray, flinging it up in front of your face. “Thank you…” He offers, and you can almost picture the confused look on his face, upon seeing you holding the try in such an odd manner.

Brian nudges Roger beside him, nodding his head in your direction, both men now wearing equal looks of questioning. It only takes a moment before both Freddie and Deaky have looked up also, Freddie trying hard not to laugh at the strange sight. “I’ll be back shortly to take the rest of your order.” You say quickly, before racing away from the table, ignoring the voice in your head that begged you to turn back, to see if Roger was looking after you.

You burst through the kitchen door, slamming the tray disguise onto a nearby counter, startling a few of the chefs and wait staff who were close to the impact zone. “Emily! Thank God you’re here, you have to keep looking after my table for me! I cannot go back out there!” You practically yell, the young woman looking at you in shock, as she rests a hand on your shoulder gently.

Having heard the commotion, Brad makes his way over to you both, folding his arms across his chest as he grins at you. “Y/N, what is going on?”

You’re trying to calm your breathing down, but it doesn’t seem to be working, as you find yourself still puffing. “Seventy five, I can’t serve them.”

“And why is that?”

“It’s a band. Queen! I can’t go back out there!”

Realisation crosses Brad’s face as he looks across at you, though poor Emily looks terribly confused still. “Ah, Queen. Wasn’t that the band who you got friendly with recently at the pub? Didn’t that, as you described him, gorgeous drummer who had been sent from the heavens, ask you out?”

“Fuck you Brad, yes it’s that band!” You hiss out, holding your hands over your hips as you glare at the chuckling man. What you wouldn’t give to wipe that smug grin off his face.

“Well, what happened to your date? You wouldn’t shut up about Roger for weeks, now I hear nothing about him!”

“He asked me out to dinner, wanted to take me to this fancy restaurant. I didn’t feel right about saying yes, we had only just met, y’know?”

“Where did he want to take you?”

“Take a wild fucking guess.”

“Ahh, that would explain why you don’t want him knowing you’re working here.”

“So, can you help me Emily?”

“I’m really sorry Y/N, but I’ve gotten roped into helping Sam, he made an absolute mess of one of his tables meals, so Mr Turner forced me to take over.” Emily sighs, a look of genuine sorrow on her face.

You feel yourself about ready to scream, but instead opt for stamping your foot on the ground, It does little to relieve the building frustration, but it does make you look like a petulant child. If you had been honest with Roger and the other’s straight off the bat, you wouldn’t have to worry about this. But no, instead, you just had to lie when you first met them, and now you’ve got to go and take their god damned meal orders!

*****

_You had first met while sitting in a pub close to seven months ago, you were furiously scribbling in a notebook, when Brian bumped into you at the bar, spilling one of the beers he was collecting all over your work. You almost screamed right then and there, but he was so apologetic, and instantly started blotting up the spilt drink with napkins, you found yourself unable to stay mad for long. The page you had been working on was ruined, as was most of the front half of your book, while the back pages remained beer free. _

_“I am so sorry Miss, I thought I would be able to carry four glasses at a time. Turns out I’m not that talented.” He quickly said, blushing at the mess he had caused._

_“It’s alright. It’ll dry soon enough. What are you doing trying to carry four beers at a time?” _

_He gestured over his shoulder to a trio of men all sat towards the back of the pub. “It was my turn to shout the band before we go on stage, and none of them wanted to help me bring the drinks over.” He shrugged, as the bartender poured another beer. “May I ask why you a writing in a dimly lit pub at the bar?” _

_You blink down at the closed book in front of you. “Just some work, that’s all. Here, did you want a hand bringing the drinks over?” You ask quickly, pushing away from the stool you had claimed as your own hours earlier, already reaching out to collect a few of the glasses._

_“What? No way! I should be offering to buy you a drink as an apology, not asking you to be a waitress!” The man quickly interjects, just as you pick up three of the amber filled glasses._

_“Well how about I bring these ones over, and you buy me one while you’re still there.” You grin, tucking your notebook under your arm, and making your way over to the three men. Once you arrive before the strangers, their conversation instantly stops, all eyes on you. “Here are your drinks boys, your friend is bringing over the others.” You grin, as you slide into the only empty chair, presumably once occupied by the man at the bar. You place your notebook back on the table to allow it to dry off some more, noticing as all eyes then fall to it._

_“Not to be rude, but who the hell are you?” One of the men speaks up, he had bright blue eyes, and dirty blonde hair, and was wearing what could only be described as the most disgusting shade of puce jacket you had ever seen._

_“Oh, sorry. I’m Y/N! Your friend over at the bar just spilled his drink all over my work, so he’s now buying me a drink.” You shrug, leaving out the part where you had self-invited yourself to join the group._

_The three men nod along to your explanation, seemingly finding no reason to question your arrival any further. “It’s nice to meet you Y/N. I’m John, this is Roger, Freddie, and behind you is Brian.” The brunette man, now named John grins. Gesturing first to the blonde, then the other brunette, and finally to the man you had first met. You smile back at John, your eyes meeting for a brief moment, He has a sweet smile, almost cheeky, and you can imagine he has a wicked sense of humour hidden behind his boyish looks._

_“Ah, so drink spiller has a name, does he?” You smirk, turning around to look up at the tall, lanky man behind you, his head a wild mane of curls. _

_“Please let’s not allow that nickname to stick?” He sighs, pulling a chair away from another table, so he could re-join his group of friends. “Sorry again for ruining your work. But I’m not used to people sitting at bars with notebooks.” Brian shrugged, placing a beer in front of you. _

_You wave his apology off, you could rewrite what you had, it wasn’t the end of the world. “If you don’t mind me asking, what sort of work would you be doing at a bar?” Roger asks, lifting an eyebrow down at the book before you. _

_You bite down on your lip for a moment, trying to think of a decent excuse. For some reason telling this band that you were here, writing down all the items in your small apartment that you could sell, to try and make rent next month just didn’t seem ideal. You were between jobs at the moment, the café you had been waitressing at had closed unexpectedly, leaving you jobless for the past near month. While you had been applying to various places frantically, nowhere seemed to be hiring, and you were struggling to make ends meet. If you had known the men sitting around you, you would likely have told them the truth. But they were a rock band, probably living glamorous lives, they wouldn’t want to hear about your plans to sell your dinner table and chairs. But you didn’t know them, not in the slightest, so you had lied. “I’m a music Journalist. I scope out the local pubs to find the bands playing, get to know them a bit then bring them in for an interview or two.” You babble out._

_If the men picked up on your lie, they didn’t show it, at least not in any ways you could decipher. If you did in fact know these men however, you would notice the way John’s eyebrows creased in the middle, as his eyes darted over to Roger, who was squinting slightly. Brian looked between the two, communicating silently, as he held his index finger vertically across his lower lip. The three men were all sceptical, though none dared to say anything, it was none of their business really. Freddie however had other ideas, paying no attention to the mental conversation of his band mates. “Darling that is amazing! Which magazine are you with? You must stay and watch us play tonight, our band is named Queen. You will absolutely love us, I’m sure of it!_

_Well fuck, now you’d done it. Freddie wanted to know who you worked for? You knew very little about the music scene, you had your favourite artists, and that was it, you never read any of the magazines about musicians. “Oh, it’s called… London Music.” You stammer, it sounded fake even to your ears. You hear Roger cough, not realising it was an effort to conceal his laughter, John pressing his elbow into his side to get him to stop. Clearly there was a reason for your lying, he thought, but at least you weren’t saying anything harmful, just getting Freddie’s hopes up._

_You blink slowly, creeping your hand forward, and resting it over the top of your notebook. “I’m sure you’re wonderful Freddie, but I’m not here for work tonight I’m sorry. I was just here speaking with the owner, asking about which bands regularly perform here.” Yet another lie, you have got to get out of here before you say something that will really get you into trouble._

_“Well how about you stay and watch for the joy of good music then?” Roger grins, biting his bottom lip gently, as his eyes fall on the book in the centre of the table. He wondered if you knew the spine was literally falling to pieces, bits of the covering flaking around the table where it sat._

_You take a large gulp of beer, perhaps more than you should have. You must look so suss right now, what with attempting to drown yourself in alcohol.  
“Alright, I’ll stay, but remember it has nothing to do with work!” You repeat, looking directly at Roger, and missing the eye roll John had directed at him at the same time._

_ *********_

“Y/L/N!” You whirl around on the spot as you hear Mr Turner yell out your name, fuck fuck fuckety fuck. No one ever wanted to be addressed directly by Mr Turner, typically it meant you were in trouble if he ever came looking for you in particular.

“Yes Mr Turner?” You smile kindly, looking up at his imposing form, he had his arms folded across his chest and one foot tapping impatiently on the floor.

“Have table seventy five ordered their meals yet?”

“Not yet sir, they asked for a few more minutes to browse the menu. I was just on my way back out to see if they would be ready to order.” You lie, why did lies seem to flow so easily when it came to the subject matter of Queen?

“Very well. Be sure to let them know we will make anything on the menu for them. If they would prefer and item from the breakfast or lunch menu, so be it, they may order whatever they like. Understood?”

“Of course Mr Turner, I will be sure to let them know.” With that, he turns and makes his leave off to harass someone else you were sure. “Kiss ass.” You mutter, just loud enough for Brad to hear.

“You know the band, think any of them will order off the special menu?” Brad grins, passing you your notepad and pen once more.

“Freddie will probably ask for breakfast, but I only say that because he likely only woke up an hour ago.” You smirk, before taking a deep breath in. You had heard Roger complain about Freddie’s odd sleeping pattern numerous times, and you had to admit, you rather liked it when he complained to you about his band mates. It only served to remind you, that these four men were just that, men. They weren’t the Gods the tabloids made them out to be!

“Off you go then, God speed!” Brad smirks, as you flip him off, before making your way back to the dreaded table. You had no idea what to do, could you stand behind the band again like you had done previously? How would that work when taking their orders?  
You could hardly hold a tray in front of your face again, that would not only stop you from getting any kind of a tip, but if Mr Turner saw you doing that, you would be unemployed on the spot!  
You clench your fist at your side, your knuckles turning white as you march towards seventy five.

‘You can do this… You can do this… You can-‘ You repeat the mantra in your mind, smiling politely to your colleagues as you pass them by, none of them any the wiser to your inner turmoil.  
Finally, you stop at their table, flipping your notepad open, and scribbling the table number at the top of the page.  
“Good evening again, may I take your orders, if you are ready?” The words come out fast, and your eyes are trained solely on the man who had ordered the drinks earlier. If you had looked to your right, you would see that Roger, Brian, Freddie, and John were all too busy looking through their menus still, and were none the wiser to your presence.

“I wonder if the chef would be good enough to prepare a banquet for us all? Perhaps with his favourite items from the menu?” The same man as before requests, looking up at you with a bored expression.

“I am sure the chef would be honoured. Would you prefer a breakfast, lunch or dinner banquet?”

You move around the table, and collect the no longer needed menus, as you would need to bring out fresh one’s at the conclusion of the meal, for the dessert menu. As you move around behind the band, leaning over their shoulder’s discreetly to collect the menu’s, Brian leans back in his chair, rocking on the back two legs like a child.  
“Do you mean to say, we can have a breakfast banquet?”  
He grins, looking up and locking eyes with you. His eyes go wide, his jaw growing slack as he recognises you instantly.

“Mr May, we will not be ordering breakfast at nine in the evening. Just the dinner banquet will do fine thank you Miss.”

Brian however is no longer listening, instead his mouth is opening and shutting as if attempting to form words. You purse your lips, and snap your notepad shut, just as Brian manages to speak. “What are you doing here?”

What you did next was wrong, and in all honesty, probably rather dangerous, but you needed Brian to shut up right this instant!  
You reach forwards slightly, and rest your hand on his shoulder, no one was looking, you made sure of that, and ever so carefully apply pressure to his shoulder. Brian was already balanced rather precariously as it was, but with that extra weight he went toppling over backwards. He landed with a shriek, his legs ticking straight up in the air, as if he had attempted to catch himself from falling.  
Your hasty escape leads you back to the kitchen, where you put in the order for the table. The right thing to have done in that situation, would have been to stick around and make sure Roger was alright, but seeing as you had caused the ‘incident’ you thought it best to leave the scene of the crime. Besides, he had enough people around to check up on him, so he would be fine!

“I saw that…”  
You almost shriek, as Brad sneaks up behind you, grinning from ear to ear. Of course he of all people had seen what you just did, thank God it wasn’t anyone else though, if it had been, they surely would be telling Mr Turner right this very moment.  
“Alright, before you begin murdering the band, how about I take their dinner out when it’s ready? You can look after my table when their order is up?”

You want to cry, you can even feel the prickle of tears forming in the backs of your eyes as you look at Brad. “You’re a life saver, you know that right?”

“I wouldn’t go that far; I just don’t want you doing anything to the band before I have a chance to meet Freddie!”

You roll your eyes, though your grin never leaves your lips. You knew Freddie the least out of the band members, though from the few times you had spoken to him one on one, he was a good man, with an excellent sense of humour, and you could imagine him and Brad hitting it off, though after tonight you had a sinking suspicion you wouldn’t be seeing much of the band again.

*****

“I’m telling the truth! I know what – Who I saw!” Brian groans as he picks himself up off the ground, straightening up his chair, and sitting back at the table, smiling as if nothing had happened. “It was Y/N!”

“Brian, just because the waitress and Roger’s friend have the same name, does not mean they are the same person.” Deaky sighs, leaning his elbows on the table before him.

Freddie can’t help but chuckle, shaking his head softly. “Friend? I think she’s a bit more than that.”

Roger frowns, looking at the grinning front man. “I’m sure I don’t know what you mean. Y/N and I are just that, friends.”

“A friend who you will not stop talking about? A friend who you couldn’t stop grinning after she agreed to have dinner with you? Shall I go on?”

“Freddie, I will kill you if you don’t shut up!”

“You mean how Y/N just tried to kill me?” Brian pipes up, causing a collective groan to erupt from the three other band members.

“No one tried to kill you Bri, you just need to learn how to balance better.” Deaky smirks, as he rocks back on his chair, mimicking the guitarist from moments ago, though he remains in one place.

Roger can’t help but consider Brian’s words, he too had thought the waitress was familiar. Her hair and voice all seemed to strike a chord with him, but it seemed so unlikely to actually be you. Although, you had been rather adamant in not letting him take you here for dinner…..

*****

The remainder of the night went smoothly, Brad had taken over for you, and you had taken charge of his tables. Mr Turner appeared to be none the wiser to the table swapping, as he had found himself rather busy with apologising profusely to table seventy five, and assuring them he would have maintenance look into the flooring, believing that there was a raised bit of carpet that Brian’s chair must’ve slipped on. The band didn’t have the heart to tell him what had truly happened, and for that you were thankful, if they had, you would never work in the food industry again!  
“It looks like Queen’s leaving, I think you’re in the clear now.” Brad smiles, as you both watch the eight men stand as one, shaking hands before shuffling towards the doors.  


You and Brad made your way over to clear off the table once the guests had left, they had been the last ones in the restaurant, leaving the staff now with the task of cleaning up for the night. The bill was left on the table, paid in full with cash, along with a poorly written note in hand writing you recognised all to well.  
‘Meet me outside Y/N -R.’ It was short, simple and got right to the point. Roger knew it was you, and he wanted to talk. You prayed the Earth would open up bellow you and swallow you, but alas, you were not so lucky.  
Brad leant over your shoulder, reading the note with a smirk. “Go on, take ten, you haven’t had a break at all tonight.”

You turn to look at him, frowning slightly. “Neither have you.”

Brad simply waves off your protesting. “Yes, but one of us has a hot date waiting outside for them, the other does not.” You can’t fight with that logic, and simply shrug, undoing the tie around your neck and slipping it out from under your collar, rolling it over your hand as you make your way out of the staff entrance, through the kitchens.

You’re not sure where you’re supposed to be meeting Roger, but you certainly weren’t expecting to see him perched atop a closed dumpster out the back of The Ritz. He looked the picture of content, head tilted back gazing up to the skied, a lit cigarette between his parted lips, the faint glow of embers casting a heavenly light upon his cheeks.  
“Hey Rog.”

He looks across at you, a broad grin forming over his lips as he removes the smoke, stamping it out on the dumpster lid. “Hello yourself Y/N.”

You want to melt, just the sound of his voice is enough to make you forget all your worries. “I guess I owe you an explanation huh?” You begin, shuffling your feet against the ground, clasping your fingers tightly around your tie.

Roger shakes his head, as he jumps down from his perch, sauntering over to you. “You don’t, I knew you didn’t work for London Music.” He chuckles softly, stood in front of you now.

“Freddie seemed to believe me.” You shrug, as you fight against the smile that’s threatening to cross your lips.

Roger nods for a moment, “That is true, but I hate to break it to you, the rest of us knew you were lying. I mean, London Music? Really?”

This time, you allow the smile to form fully, grinning up at the blonde. “I panicked okay? I don’t do we under pressure always!”

He leans forwards, wrapping an arm around your waist softly, pulling you closer to him. “Why didn’t you say you worked here though? Y/N, a job is a job, if you thought I would laugh at you or anything like that, please know that I never would!”

You shake your head no, falling forwards to rest your forehead against his chest. “I just couldn’t bring myself to tell you, I though I had dug myself too deep with the whole, reporter thing. And then when you asked to take me out for dinner, and suggested we come here, I couldn’t bare the thought of having all of my work mates waiting on me.” You blurt out, feeling hot shame roll over you.

“Next time, just tell me the truth alright?” He grins, resting his index finger bellow your chin, and lifting your face up to meet his. It starts as the softest of kisses, barely there, it felt almost as if a feather were being trailed over your lips. But soon, that isn’t enough for either of you. Roger wraps his other arm around your waist, as you throw both over your arms over his shoulders, locking your hands behind his neck. Your lips work as one, teeth knocking together occasionally as you bring yourselves closer together.

With a gasp, you pull away, grinning at the flushed blonde in your arms. “Jesus Christ!” Your cry seemingly coming from nowhere.

Roger tilts his head to the side, regarding you with a raised eyebrow. “Yes love?”

“I have to apologise to Brian! I tried to kill him!”

Roger bursts out with laughter, pulling you to his chest once again. “That was one hell of a ballsy move you pulled back there. But please, for the love of God, next time you need to make a hasty escape, please try not to murder my band!”

**Author's Note:**

> Remember kids, don't do a Brian! Never swing back on your chair or someone may try and push you off!  
(I do not condone doing this, but when you gotta make a quick reareat you do what you gotta do....)


End file.
